CLAYTON'S SCHEME.
About ten o'clock in the forenoon Clarence Clayton entered the Somerset
Hotel and looked about for the Orange County farmer. Clayton was clean
shaved, his shoes were brilliantly polished, and there was a rose in his
buttonhole.
"My dear old friend," he said, with effusion, as he espied Josiah
Onthank sitting near the door, "I hope you are feeling in the best of
health this fine morning."
"Thank you, Mr. Clayton. I feel pooty smart. Why, you're all dressed up.
You look as if you'd just come out of a bandbox."
"Men in my position have to be particular about their appearance. Now if
I was in the country I wouldn't care, but I have an appointment with Mr.
Vanderbilt this morning, and, of course, I must be particular."
"Do you know Mr. Vanderbilt?" asked Mr. Onthank, considerably
impressed.
"Intimately. I dined at his house last week."
Mr. Clayton took in with a quick glance the dress and outward appearance
of his rustic friend. Mr. Onthank certainly did not look as if he had
just stepped out of a bandbox. His clothing was dusty, and his shoes
were innocent of blacking.
"My friend," he said, "if you will pardon the suggestion, it would be
well to have your boots blacked."
"I didn't bring any blacking with me," responded the farmer. "Besides, I
had 'em blacked last Sunday."
"As you are going to Wall Street, and may meet some of the prominent
people of the city, it will be well to have them blacked this morning.
Leave it to me. I will find a boy who will do it for a nickel."
"I always black my own boots when I am to home."
"In the city we employ bootblacks."
"Five cents seems pooty good pay for blackin' boots. It don't take
more'n five minutes."
"Oh, well, the poor boys need the money. I look upon it in that light."
"To be sure!" and Mr. Onthank began to look upon his companion as a very
kind-hearted man.
Out in the street they came upon a boy who was quite ready to undertake
the job. Before he got through, however, he began to think there wasn't
much profit in it. The farmer's shoes were of cowhide, and absorbed a
great deal of blacking. Still the boy was an expert, and made them look
better than they ever had before.
"That's worth a dime," he said.
"I won't pay it," declared the farmer. "Ten cents for blackin' a pair of
boots! Why it's ridiculous!"
There might have been an angry discussion, but Clayton drew a dime from
his pocket and put it into the boy's outstretched palm.
"Very likely he's got a mother to support," he said. "Besides, he's made
your boots look fine."
"That's so," assented the farmer, looking complacently at the boy's
work. "He seems to know his business. Mrs. Onthank would be surprised if
she could see me now."
He walked along with unwonted pride, ever and anon glancing delightedly
at his renovated boots.
"I can't make 'em look like that," he said. "They look better than they
did when they was new, but ten cents is an awful price to pay."
They walked along Broadway till they reached Wall Street, down which
they turned.
Mr. Onthank was considerably impressed by the tall and stately buildings
on Broadway.
"Is your office near here, Mr. Clayton?" he asked.
"Yes, quite near."
Near the junction of Wall and New Streets Clayton led the way into a
handsome office, occupied by a firm of well-known brokers.
"This is my office," he said. "Don't ask me any questions till we come
out."
They entered the room, but many were entering, and no particular notice
was taken of them.
"There's a sight of clerks," said the farmer. "You must do a big
business."
"We do. Wait here a minute till I speak to my cashier."
He went up to a window, and in a tone inaudible to Mr. Onthank asked the
price of a particular stock. Of course an answer was given, so that they
appeared to be conferring together. Then he rejoined his Orange County
friend, and they walked slowly to the end of the counter.
"Now we'll go out," said Clayton. "I have one or two calls to make on
the street."
"Do you trust your clerks to do the work while you are away?"
"Oh, yes, they understand their duties. Things will go on like
clockwork. You see we have a perfect system."
"You don't do business alone, do you?"
"No, there are several of us in the firm. I may say frankly that I only
have one-fourth interest in the business. Still I am well paid, very
well paid."
"I s'pose you have to pay a big rent."
"Ten thousand dollars a year."
"You don't say! Why, you can get a big store where I live for only
twelve dollars a month."
"Very likely; but there is a good deal of difference between the country
and the city. Now let us walk along Broadway, down to the Battery. We
will sit down there, and I will tell you what I can offer your son."
In a few minutes they were sitting on one of the benches, looking out to
Governor's Island.
"It's a great privilege to live in New York, Mr. Onthank. I think your
son would enjoy it."
"I know he would. Why, Ephraim would give all his old boots to be at
work here."
"If they were all cowhide boots like yours the offer wouldn't be very
tempting," thought Clayton.
"Yes," he said, "I can easily believe it. May I ask what wages your son
would expect."
"Well, I reckon twenty-five to thirty dollars a month would satisfy
him."
"Twenty-five to thirty dollars a month! Why, my dear friend, what are
you thinking of?"
"I thought he couldn't live in the city in good style for less," said
the farmer, deprecatingly.
"Of course, of course, but you don't understand me. I wouldn't think of
offering him less than seventy-five dollars a month, to begin with."
"Gosh! you don't mean it?" said the farmer, his eyes opened wide.
"Certainly I do. That is the minimum salary I pay my clerks."
"Why, Ephraim would feel as rich as a king with that salary. When can
you make room for him?" he added anxiously.
"I must ask a few questions first. Has your son a fair education?"
"He attended the district school till he was fifteen."
"Then I suppose he is well up in the fundamental rules of arithmetic?"
"What's them?"
"I suppose he can add, subtract and multiply."
"Oh, yes."
"And write a fair hand?"
"He's pooty good at writin'."
"I presume he will do. Now, Mr. Onthank, I will tell you how I am
placed. There will be a vacancy next week, but a merchant up town wants
me very much to take his son. He will pay a liberal premium."
"What's that?"
"We always expect our clerks to pay a premium on entering our service.
How much money have you brought with you?"
"I've got two hundred dollars in my wallet. But what has that to do with
it?"
"A great deal, my friend. The premium must be paid down at once, and
that guarantees your son the place."
"How much do you ask?"
"The merchant I refer to is willing to pay two hundred dollars, but
between ourselves I don't favor engaging his son. I have been told that
he drinks. I hope your son doesn't drink?"
"Ephraim drinks cider at Thanksgivin', but he never drinks anything
stronger."
"I am glad to hear it. Intemperance is very objectionable in our
business. Now about the premium. I will agree to take your son for a
hundred and fifty dollars, though I have never before accepted less than
two hundred."
"A hundred and fifty dollars is a good deal of money," said Ezekiel,
cautiously.
"So it is, but think of the advantages. Think of his getting
seventy-five dollars a month, to begin with. Why in six months I shall
probably raise him to a hundred dollars a month."
Ezekiel Onthank was dazzled, and Clayton saw that he was. He felt that
he had almost landed the fish for which he was angling.
"I guess I'll take a day to think on't," said the farmer.
"I would advise you to accept at once. The other party may get in ahead
of you."
"Can't you give us the refusal of it for a day?"
"Really I don't see how I can."
"A hundred and fifty dollars is a good deal of money, and I want to
think it over."
"My dear friend, I don't see the need of it. Such situations are not to
be had every day. Why, the young man's salary the first year, supposing
he were promoted in six months, would amount to over a thousand dollars.
Deducting the premium, that would leave your son nearly nine hundred
dollars. That's a good income, isn't it?"
"Yes, so 'tis. Why our minister only gets six hundred dollars a year,
and he's a man of forty-odd."
"Exactly. You see what a brilliant prospect Ephraim will have. Really I
ought to insist on the full premium of two hundred dollars."
Clayton did his utmost to induce the farmer to decide at once, but Mr.
Onthank had promised Rupert not to do anything without talking the
matter over with him, and he kept his word.
"Well," said Clayton, "I'll give in to you. I'll give you twenty-four
hours to think over the matter, but of course I must ask you to pay me
something for the favor. Give me five dollars on account of the premium,
and you shall have a day to make up your mind."
This Mr. Onthank finally agreed to, and when the matter was settled they
walked back to the Somerset Hotel.
"You had better not say much about our negotiation," Clayton advised,
"till the matter is decided."